Try To Remember
by Frankie McStein
Summary: Satine may not be dead yet, but can happily ever after really come true?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer- I don't own them and if I did you'd know about it because I would have told you and you would have seen this happening in the film.  
  
I've tried my hardest with Toulouse's accent but some of the words are hard to figure out. And I know she's not dead, it's been done to death (!) but give me a chance. Trust me this fic will be a different one to the other oh your alive and we shall live happily ever after! ones.  
  
Try To Remember.  
  
  
Satine? Satine! God no!  
Toulouse looked up as he heard Christian muttering and then quickly hobbled over to the bed.  
  
Chwistian? Wake up Chwistian!  
Toulouse shook his friend as he called and was finally rewarded with seeing blue eyes flickering open.  
  
  
You had a nightmare Chwistian.  
Christian sighed softly and lay back against the pillows.  
  
Thank you for waking me Toulouse. I can't do anything without seeing her.  
  
It's only a few days Chwistian, Give it time.  
  
At least she died knowing I loved her.  
  
Christian's eyes slipped closed and Toulouse walked quietly away, knowing that Christian wasn't asleep, but glad that he was getting some rest. One of his feet caught on something and he looked down to see an empty Absinthe bottle rolling over the floor.  
  
He glanced around the small garret and saw a number of bottles he hadn't noticed before, all in varying stages of emptiness. Concern clouded his already dimmed eyes.  
  
Be carefuwl Chwistian, he muttered, worry for his friend making his voice shake. We've alweady wost Satine, we can't wose you too.  
* * *  
  
Why Harold? she yelled in frustration, he red hair flying. Why can't I see him?  
  
I'm sorry pumpkin but the Duke is still in Paris. If he sees you all of this will have been for nothing.  
She sank on to the bed, unwilling to admit he was right, but knowing that he was.  
* * *  
  
Toulouse? You have to get up Toulouse.  
  
Toulouse opened his eyes, struggled to focus and found himself looking up at Satie and the Argentinean.  
  
The boy will not wake up! proclaimed the Argentinean.  
Satie looked across the room and then down at Toulouse.  
  
He's right Toulouse, we can't wake him.  
  
Toulouse quickly made his way over to where Christian was lying. Empty bottles were scattered on and around the bed and Toulouse groaned as he saw them.   
  
he called gently, even though he knew it would do no good.  
  
He wasted no more time in attempting to rouse Christian, instead he told Satie to make some black coffee and asked the Argentinean to get some cold water. The two hurried off to follow his instructions whilst Toulouse whispered quietly to the figure on the bed, trying to get through to his friend who had drunk himself in to unconsciousness.  
* * *  
  
How do you know? she demanded, fire flashing in her eyes.  
  
Toulouse told me this morning.  
  
Oh God! Harold please, I have to go to him!  
  
Are you mad? The Duke is leaving for England tomorrow, you must stay here until then.  
  
But Christian...  
  
Won't have anything if you get carried off to England by the Duke! You have to stay here, for his sake!  
Tears were slipping down her cheeks as she nodded her agreement.  
  
Until tomorrow Harold.  
* * *  



	2. more!

  
  
  
Yes Chwistian?  
  
What happened?  
  
You got dwunk Chwistian. You were unconscious.  
Christian groaned.  
  
I was hoping that was a dream.  
  
No Chwistian, it was not a dweam. We couldn't wake you up.  
  
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it.  
  
It's alwight Chwistian, you awe ok now.  
  
Thanks to you Toulouse.  
Toulouse just grinned and walked over to the sink to get Christian some more water.  
  
I've been dwunk to many time to cownt Chwistian. It was nothing new to me.  
Christian didn't look any happier at knowing he hadn't scared his friend and Toulouse sighed.  
  
It's too soon Toulouse,' he told himself. Give it time.'  
  
Wordlessly he handed the cup to Christian and then turned to pick up his coat.  
  
You're going out Toulouse?  
  
I have a few things to buy.  
  
Can I come?  
  
Toulouse blinked, it was the first time Christian had shown any interest in leaving his room for almost a week, ever since opening night.  
  
Of couwse Chwistian. You coat is on the chair.  
  
It took a few minutes for Christian to get ready, he didn't bother to shave or brush his hair, but he did change his clothes. Seeing him take even such a slight interest in his appearance made Toulouse hopeful, even though he knew it would be much longer before Christian started to really care about himself again.  
  
Once they reached the door Christian stopped, and Toulouse knew what was bothering his friend. The windmill of the Moulin Rouge was visible from the door, as was the Gothic Tower. Toulouse placed a hand on Christian's back and gently pushed him in to the street.  
  
People sitting at tables or standing on the pavement waved and smiled at the two of them. Christian was just as popular for his sunny nature and ready friendship as Toulouse was for his paintings and his willingness to help.  
  
Toulouse hurried through the shops he needed to go to, noticing how tense Christian was and wanting to get him home again as soon as possible. Once safely inside his garret Christian collapsed in to a chair, sick desperation clouding his eyes.  
  
Every thing I saw reminded me of her. I can't get away from her. How do I go on without her Toulouse? The greatest thing you'll ever learn. Why couldn't I have taught her that in time? Why?  
Toulouse hurried over to his friend as fast as he could.  
  
Calm down Chwistian.  
  
Christian didn't hear the worry in Toulouse's voice.  
  
Why calm down? he screamed jumping up from the chair where he had collapsed. What good will calming down do me? Will calming down bring her back? Will calming down end the pain I'm in? Why should I calm down?  
  
His voice was so loud Toulouse had backed away, seriously worried about what Christian would do. As suddenly as it had started, the shouting stopped. Toulouse found himself staring at Christian as he slumped to the floor, sobs wracking his body. He stayed frozen for a few seconds before grabbing a blanket and warping it around Christian's shoulders.  
  
Toulouse sat by his friend, one hand around his shoulders and the other stroking his forehead, all the while cursing himself for being unable to offer more comfort.  
  
It was almost half an hour later when Toulouse noticed Christian's shoulders had stopped shaking. At some point over the last thirty minutes Christian's body had succumbed to the exhaustion of his emotional stress. Christian hadn't stopped crying, he simply hadn't had any energy left to cry with.  
* * *  
  
How much longer Harold? she asked, her voice sounding world weary.  
  
Not long now. The Duke will be leaving in a few hours. As soon as he's gone you can go and see Christian.  
  
The Duke won't go to Christian's garret. Once I get there I'll be safe. Please Harold...  
A raised hand cut her off.  
  
Three hours. That's all. You've waited five days to get this to work and you want to throw it away for three hours?  
She shook her head, unable to manage even a simple response, but there were no tears this time. She had nothing left to cry with.  
* * *  



	3. Back again!

  
The knock at the door startled Christian and the near empty bottle fell from his lap. He looked around for the source of the noise, forcing his eyes to focus. Toulouse was sleeping, no one else was in the room with him. He noticed the large number of bottles by his chair and dimly wondered how much he'd had to drink.  
  
His attempts to count the bottles were hindered by his blurry vision and he had just reached three when the knock sounded again. This time he recognised the sound for what it was and lurched towards the door to answer it.   
  
He stared for a long time at the person who was there, his mouth open in shock, his eyes taking in every detail. It wasn't until his visitor moved forwards that he realised that it wasn't his imagination. He took several steps back, shying away from the hand that reached out for him.  
  
He tried to take another step away but his foot landed on a bottle instead of on the floor and he fell backwards with a small cry.   
  
The dull thud as his head caught the table wasn't loud, there was no echo, no magnificent crash, but the effect was still devastating.  
* * *  
  
Toulouse woke with a jump. He shook his head to clear it, trying to find what had disturbed him. He looked over to ask Christian if he knew and choked back a cry at what he saw.  
  
Christian was lying on the floor, the table on it's side behind him. A figure in a pale blue dress was leaning over him. Long red hair was hiding her face, but Toulouse knew who it was.  
  
he gasped, shock weakening his voice. Her head turned and his brown eyes locked on hers.  
  
Toulouse, please help me. He caught his head on the table and I think he's unconscious.  
  
There was a crash from the Bohemian's flat upstairs and Satie's face appeared at the edge of the hole.  
What's going on? he called. God! Satine!  
  
Satie, pwease get the doctor. Chwistian hit his head. yelled Toulouse.  
Satie's face disappeared, his obvious shock at seeing Satine replaced by his concern for Christian.  
  
The doctor lived two floors down so it didn't take him long to get to the garret. Christian was starting to come round when the doctor hurried in closely followed by Satie. After a brief rummage through his bag the doctor produced a small vial of smelling salts and Christian was awake in another minute.  
  
He gasped a few times and struggled to sit up but the doctor stopped him.  
You should lie still Monsieur.  
  
Christian sank back to the floor and Satine moved his head in to her lap.  
  
Toulouse pulled the heavy curtains closed to stop the light from giving Christian a headache while the doctor wrote out a quick list of signs to keep an eye out for. He gave the list to Satie, the only one whose hands weren't full and had turned to leave when Christian sat up.  
  
Monsieur please, be careful.  
But Christian struggled to his feet and looked around him with confused and slightly panicked eyes.  
  
Satine's voice was gentle and soothing, although slightly confused. What's wrong? she asked.  
  
How do you know my name? Christian asked finally. Who are you people?  
* * *  
  
What's wrong with him doctor? whispered Satie. Christian had become more and more panicked until the doctor decided it was safer to sedate him. The doctor looked over at Satine.  
  
Mademoiselle, you say he caught his head on the table when he fell?  
  
She only nodded, her attention fixed on the figure of her lover, eye's bright with tears she barely stopped from falling.  
It is possible the blow has caused a condition known as amnesia. Memory loss.  
  
He's wost awl his memory?  
  
Not necessarily all. It may only be partial and it may only last a few days. It's impossible to tell.  
Satine looked over at him.  
  
He will remember though, won't he?  
  
The doctor's face creased in a frown.  
I... cannot say for certain.  
  
Now her tears did start to fall and her head dropped in to her hands.  
I shouldn't have waited so long. I knew I should have risked it. Why didn't I make Harold tell him I was alive?  
  
She continued sobbing brokenly, unaware of the attempts Toulouse and Satie were making to calm her down.  
  
The doctor quietly left, muttering unheard promises to return the following morning to check Christian's progress. Satie left a few hours later to tell Christian's friends what had happened, and, at Toulouse's suggestion, to check the Duke and his man servant really had left Paris.  
  
Toulouse and Satine stayed with Christian and prayed he would remember them when he woke up.  
* * *  



	4. Hello D

Disclaimer- Don't own. Never have. Never will. *sob sob*  
  
  
The next day dawned fantastically bright, but no one who cared for Christian cared for the beauty of the new day. Worry was clouding the minds of them all and none of them could see any way out of the dense fog. Only Christian's return to full health could do that.  
  
How are you feewing today?  
  
Better than last night. A sheepish expression crept over Christian's face. I really scared you and that young lady didn't I?  
  
Toulouse only nodded, the fear of the past night washing over him again.  
I had no idea you could shout so woud, he managed finally, forcing a smile on to his face to belie the seriousness of his tone. But it was understandable Chwistian, you were scared.  
  
Toulouse's voice was gentle and Christian looked at him sharply.  
I've heard you talk like that before. About love. About how much you long for love.  
  
Toulouse smiled happily through the tears that had sprung in to his eyes.  
Yes Chwistian. I told you how much I wong for wove and how much I bewieve in twuth and beauty. The two friends sat talking for along time, Christian telling Toulouse everything he remembered, and Toulouse trying to prompt his memory. It was evening by the time they ended their conversation and Toulouse was heading to the kitchen when a knock sounded on the door.  
  
Could you get that pwease Chwistian?  
  
The door clicked open and Christian stared at their guest in surprise. he managed finally. Oh... um.... won't you come in? He pushed the door closed and then watched as Satine picked her way through the debris on the floor and finally sat on the sofa.  
  
I want to apologise for last night, Christian said as she was sitting down,not giving himself a chance to hesitate. I had no right to yell at you like that. I know I scared you, and I'm asking you to forgive me.  
  
Of course you're forgiven, Satine said quietly. How could I not forgive you? Christian looked at her sharply.  
  
Why did you say that? he demanded. Satine looked uncomfortable, and Toulouse shook his head at her warningly.  
  
We were good friends, she said finally, knowing that the words sounded false, but Christian wasn't listening to her.  
  
What are you saying? he muttered to himself. What are you saying? Satine looked over at him with concern written over her face.  
  
He looked up at her and she was surprised to see tears in his eyes.  
  
You never told me the truth, he said quietly. I asked why you were staying with the Duke, and you lied to me. You didn't tell my why. She stared at him in shock.  
  
You're right, she said eventually. I didn't tell you, because the Duke had threatened to kill you if I stayed with you.  
  
Stayed with me? he asked, confusion making him look so much younger than he really was. What do you mean, stay with me? Were we room mates or something?  
  
Satine felt her heart break. she said, forcing a smile on to her face. We spent a lot of time together and the Duke was jealous. She watched him carefully, hoping he would say something more, but he seemed to have fallen in to his thoughts, so she merely said good bye to Toulouse and left.  
* * *  
  
I want to go to the Moulin Rouge, Christian told Toulouse the next day. I keep thinking about it, and I want to go and see why.  
  
When he saw the dance floor, Christian froze. He opened his mouth to say something, but Nini came stalking over to him and wrapped an arm around his waist.  
  
Nice to see you again, Shakespeare, she said, pushing her body up against his. You haven't been back to visit us for so long.  
  
Shakespeare? You've called me that before. You were... you were sitting on my lap. She smiled and fluttered her lashes.  
  
Nice to know you remember me, she said coyly. How about we go somewhere and chat about old times some more? She pulled lightly on his arm to lead him to a room and he followed her docilely. Toulouse tried to follow, but the door was closed and locked before he got there, and all he could do was wait outside.  
  
When the door finally opened Toulouse nearly pounced upon his friend.   
What happen Chwistian? he asked concernedly, hoping Nini had gotten the slap he felt she so richly deserved.  
  
Toulouse I remember it all now, Christian cried. I'm in love Toulouse.  
  
I know you are Chwistian.  
  
You do? Oh God I didn't know I was that obvious. Christian smiled. I just hope Nini doesn't mind everyone knowing so soon.  
  
N... Nini? gasped Toulouse, looking behind Christian where Nini was sitting, a smug smile on her face and a triumphant look in her eyes.  
  
Of course me darling. Why shouldn't he love me? she challenged. Do you know anyone better for him?  
  
Toulouse said, lifting his chin and staring at her with defiance blazing in his eyes. He was taken a back when Nini laughed.  
  
she giggle. Satine left him, broke his heart. Didn't she my poor baby? I wouldn't dream of doing something like that. She placed a possessive hand on Christian's shoulder. I love Christian, and I'll never hurt him.  
  
To Toulouse the sarcasm in her voice was blindingly obvious, but Christian seemed to be entirely unaware of the harsh undercurrent in her tone, and he willingly leaned in to the kiss she initiated. Toulouse looked away.  
  
I have to get him to remember Satine,' he thought desperately, looking around and hoping to see her. But she wasn't there. Backstage!' he though suddenly and hurried off as fast as he could. Nini seemed determined to keep them apart, but Satine and Christian belonged together, he was sure of it.  
* * *  



	5. BOO! haha!

  
Disclaimer- Ummm, I have to ask, doesn't the necessity of this word negate any explanation?  
  
  
Confusion set in when she woke up. She raised her head and looked around, thinking she was still in her room, not remembering she was sitting in Christian's garret.  
  
A low groan caught her attention and her eyes locked on Christian. Her memory of the last night flooded back as she noticed bewilderment in his sleep fogged eyes.  
  
Oh. Hi, he managed eventually.  
  
she replied, wanted so much for him to reach over and kiss her like he always did in the mornings, but knowing that it wasn't going to happen.  
  
I saw you last night didn't I?  
  
Satine nodded, hoping that this was a good sign. Her heart constricted painfully as he continued to stare at her with the barest hint of recognition in his eyes.  
  
I get the feeling I've seen you before. Before last night, I mean.  
  
Satine had to bite her lip to stop from telling him their story; the doctor had warned them all not to tell him too much at once.  
  
  
  
The word broke in upon her and shone like a beacon.  
  
You sing. In a show.  
  
Yes, I have a very good role. It was written... quite recently.  
  
Christian's eyes narrowed in concentration.  
  
he muttered. No, India. Yes, India, it's set in India.  
  
He carried on muttering to himself, unaware of Satine's growing excitement.  
  
He's remembering,' she was telling herself, drinking in every word Christian uttered. But suddenly he stopped mumbling and Satine realised he was glaring at her with a deep, blazing anger in his usually gentle eyes.  
  
C... Christian?  
  
he yelled, making Toulouse jump out of his sleep. Why can't I remember any more of you? I can see your face! What is it I can't remember? What aren't you telling me?  
  
He raged on as Satine and Toulouse shrank back against the wall. A loud hammering heralded the arrival of the doctor and a crash made Christian spin round. The doctor, together with Satie and the Argentinean had broken the feeble catch on the door and now all three rushed in.  
  
Tell me, Christian begged, his earlier rage spent. Please tell me.  
  
His words died off in a whisper as the doctor pushed down the plunger of the syringe he had jabbed in to Christian's arm. After assuring himself the powerful sedative had taken hold, he enlisted the help of Satie and the Argentinean in moving Christian to the bed, then turned to Satine.  
  
What happened?  
  
I... don't know, she muttering mummered quietly, afraid of disturbing Christian. He just started yelling all of a sudden.  
The doctor gave her a hard look.  
  
Mademoiselle Satine, I think you are proving a great stimulation to his memory. However you may be pushing too far too fast. I would recommend you try to limit the contact you have with him.  
Her face fell and Toulouse grabbed her hand.  
  
Do not wowy Satine. I pwomise I wiwl bwing him to see you evwy time I can.  
She smiled down at him, even as tears coursed down her cheeks.  
  
We'wl get him back Satine. You know how much deepwy he cawes for us awl, he won't weave us.  
* * *  
  
The weather has never seemed so appropriate before,' Satine reflected. Her blue eyes glistened as she watched the rain drops fall. The thick grey clouds hung low over the world and each blast of the icy wind seemed to blow right through the window and chill her heart.  
  
Christian, her Christian, had yelled so angrily at her. Even during the play, even after she had broken his heart with her words, he hadn't seriously sounded angry. Even as he was shouting at her to let him pay, she had only heard confusion in his voice.  
  
But it wasn't really him,' she told herself. He doesn't have any memory of me. Of course he was upset.'  
But her attempt to console herself was unsuccessful. A figure momentarily blocked her view inside Christian's garret. She looked carefully and saw it was Christian who was in the window.  
  
A ragged sob was torn from her throat and she forced herself to look away, to close the curtains. Slowly, unwillingly, she crossed the room and sat on the bed.  
  
The memory of herself throwing Christian on to the bed flashed in to her mind. His shocked and confused face swam clearly in to her view and a giggle escaped her.   
  
The memories washed over her and she let them. She wrapped herself in them, hid herself from reality behind the figures of the past. The wall she had built to house her worry and exhaustion finally broke and she let her body collapse on to the mattress.  
  
Christian should be with me.'  
  
That was her final though before sleep claimed her and she fell once again in to the lonely embrace of solitude's empty arms.  
* * *  
  
  
For the next week that's how it was. Nini did her utmost to stop Christian from seeing Satine and whenever she was in the same room as him, Nini quickly spirited him away.   
What was is all for? Satine cried to Harold one evening. I did this for him, and now I'll never have him back!   
  
Harold said nothing, just held her as her sobs became uncontrollable.  
You will get him back pumpkin, he whispered when she had calmed down. I'm sure you two were meant to be together, and you will get him back.  
  
But how, Satine asked, confused. He doesn't remember me, and Nini will see to it he won't. Harold was silent for a moment, then looked down at her with a grin.  
  
Maybe he'll remember if we show him what happened. Come what may pigeon the show must go on.  
Satine looked at him blankly for a few seconds, and then a smile lit up her face.  
  
Oh Harold! she yelled kissing him lightly on the cheek. That's a fantastic idea! She ran from the room to tell everyone what they were going to do and Harold watched her go with a smile on her face.  
  
Creatures of the underworld can't afford to love, he muttered, but sometimes, just sometimes, they'll be someone who is willing to pay the price.   
* * *  



	6. Finally! All scream!

Disclaimer- Apparently no-one remembers! So I'll say again (grrrr) I don't own them so if you want them (and lets face it who wouldn't?) don't bother asking me  
A/N- OMG! Huge delay and not my fault honest! Please forgive me? I know there was some confusion over the last chapter, but I can't remember why or who from, so, would you mind awfully asking again so I can answer or alter as needs be? I'm awful cheeky ain't I?  
  
The next day everything was ready and Toulouse worked miracles to get Christian away from Nini and in to the theatre.  
You have to go Chwistian, he begged. It's especiawy for you, a celebration of your weturn to health and your welationship with Nini.  
  
All right Toulouse I'll go, Christian conceded eventually. But Nini better had know about this or she's not going to be very happy, he warned.  
  
Don't wowy Chwistian. You'll have a gweat time!  
  
They arrived at the Moulin Rouge to the tune of Come What May and as they entered Satine started singing. The words froze Christian in his tracks, and he stood unmoving in the doorway as the song continued, his eyes fixed on Satine. As the song came to an end, Christian began walking up to the stage where she was singing.  
  
He stopped at the edge of the stage, staring up at her.  
I remember, he whispered. I remember it all.  
* * *  
  
Two weeks had gone by. Nini had been furious to walk in to the Moulin Rogue to find Christian and Satine standing on the edge of the stage, engaged in a deep kiss. Harold had been overjoyed to give Satine away at her wedding, and Toulouse had been delighted to be Christian's best man.  
  
Despite the plans for a small wedding, the Moulin Rouge had been full, everyone who worked there having been in attendance. Every one was anticipating the inevitable children and happy ending. But the power of the individual should never be underestimated.  
  
Christian was on his way home with a bottle of wine for dinner that night when Satie and Toulouse came running up to him, very real fear in their eyes.  
Christian! Where is Satine?  
  
She's at home. Why? What's wrong?  
  
Oh Chwistian! It's the Duke! He's back! Terror sprang in to Christian's eyes and he threw the bottle to the ground, running towards his home. Satie and Toulouse were quickly left behind, but they carried on running, panic giving them extra speed. They both knew what would happen if the Duke found Satine.   
  
Christian nearly stopped when he saw the door to his garrett was open, but he forced himself to go in, calling for Satine as he went. What he saw when he crossed the threshold sent a thrill of terror right through him. He was still standing in the doorway when Satie and Toulouse reached him.  
  
The room itself was a mess, as though someone had ransacked it. And on the table, adorned with blots of what looked horribly like blood, was lying a piece of paper, bearing the words:  
  
My Way.


	7. The End

Disclaimer- I don't own it so I'm not going to say I do, but if anyone wants to believe I do, go for it!  
  
  
Every day that passes makes it harder to recall the incident, but even now, if I stop, and think, I can still see everything so clearly. Sometimes, when it's quiet, and the only sound is my own breathing, I can almost believe that the story never ended. Times like that are all too rare and end, oh so quickly.  
  
I tell myself I should make the most of them. I close my eyes to try to bring the memories just that little bit closer, but no matter how hard I try, how close I bring them, they always stop just the other side of reality.  
  
My favourite image is one that always appears in the very last second, just before distraction steals my attention. They are standing together, triumphant, as though they have just broken through the greatest barrier in the world. There are times when I can't help but wonder if they have, but knowing that would hurt more than the uncertainty, and I never dwell on the thought for long.  
  
I freely admit that there are times I have often prayed to a God I have never believed in for news. I have heard any number of rumours, all different, but they all serve to make me realise just dearly I would love to know what has become of my friends.  
  
No-one knows where the Duke took Satine. No-one knows if Christian ever found her again. No-one even knows for sure when they left. One day Satine was gone, the next, Christian had followed. The only reason we know they didn't leave together of their own accord is the existence of a note. Such a small piece of paper, with just two words scrawled on it, but the message it imparted was more devastating than any other piece of writing I have ever read.  
  
Those two small words, that one small piece of paper, tore my two best friends away from me, ripped apart two lovers destined to be together, and may ever show one person's ultimate victory.  
  
No-one knows what happened to the Duke, Satine, or Christian. There are times, when all the world seems silent, that I can see them standing together, and, for a moment, I can believe it's how they really there.  
  
But it doesn't change the fact that imagination is all that's left to us, the friends they left behind.


End file.
